


Is That a Scroll In Your Toga, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

by Redbyrd



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s01e09 Brief Candle, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-09
Updated: 2007-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28472370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redbyrd/pseuds/Redbyrd
Summary: Epilogue for Brief Candle- the Argosians welcome SG-1 back for a celebratory feast after their own customs.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Is That a Scroll In Your Toga, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

DISCLAIMER:  
The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.  
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Colonel O'Neill glared balefully in the direction of their absent Argosian hosts. "Why are we doing this again?"

"Diplomacy, sir," Sam replied with straight face. "The Argosians have invited us to a celebratory feast, and we honor the Argosians by adopting their ceremonial attire." Her belly ached from trying not to laugh. She'd already turned the MALP around and set the video camera to record on her remote signal. Janet was going to *love* this. She turned to survey Daniel trying awkwardly to adjust his toga, which was slipping. "I'm told that anthropologists do it all the time."

Daniel gave her an injured look, glasses flashing in the sunlight. "You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"No," Sam said, smiling sweetly and choking down another fit of giggles. Her version of the toga was rather more modest than theirs, not to mention that she was a lot more accustomed to wearing a dress. And she'd prevailed on Kynthia to wear a simple flower twisted in her hair instead of the elaborate floral headpieces that were generally de rigueur.

"I do not care for this attire," Teal'c said, frowning, as rattled as they had ever seen the imperturbable Jaffa. "Are you certain there is not another piece? It is rather...drafty."

"No, that's everything," Daniel said. "Pants were a rather late innovation..."

"Not now, Daniel." O'Neill said.

Daniel sighed, and twitched the toga around again, looking down at his bare feet in their sandals. "It's just one dinner, Jack."

"Daniel," O'Neill said. "In future, I expect you to find a way to inform our hosts that *our* ceremonial customs require us to stay in uniform. With boots. We have particularly strong cultural prohibitions against baring our feet."

Sam didn't actually think there was anything wrong with the colonel's feet, but Daniel muttered something about it definitely being better for diplomatic relations if Jack's boots at least, stayed on.

"Would that not be dishonest?" Teal'c asked.

"You like wearing flip-flops?" O'Neill asked.

"I do not."

The colonel appeared to think that a sufficient answer. "Are we ready? Daniel?"

Daniel was nodding but Sam interrupted.

"No, sir, you need your, ah, laurels," she gravely passed over the floral headpieces that completed the outfits. She had to stop breathing as the colonel snatched his impatiently and deposited it crookedly on his head.

"Excuse me," she finally gasped, and ducked around the side of the building to muffle the uncontrollable gurgle of laughter in her hands.

Behind her, she could still hear her teammates. "Captain Carter appeared to be in some distress," Teal'c said.

"Not exactly, Teal'c," her CO replied grouchily.

She heard Daniel chuckle softly, "Actually, I'm surprised she lasted that long. We do look rather-"

"Don't say it, Daniel-"

"Rather-"

"I *mean* it!" There was a brief sound of scuffling.

"O'Neill, I believe you have damaged Daniel Jackson's wreath."

Sam slid helplessly down the wall to the floor, laughing too hard to stay upright.


End file.
